


Phantom Traveler- Part 3

by queenofdeansbooty



Series: Spn Series Rewrite- Season 1 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, F/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 01:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14884934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenofdeansbooty/pseuds/queenofdeansbooty
Summary: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. This is part three of season 1 episode 4.





	Phantom Traveler- Part 3

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. This is part three of season 1 episode 4.

You had to head back to Jerry’s office because he would have been able to tell you what is it that was on the handle of the door. 

“This stuff is covered in sulfur,” Jerry concluded.

“You’re sure?” Sam asked.

“Take a look for yourself.” Jerry got up when there was banging coming from outside of the office and he sighed.

“If you will excuse me, I have an idiot to fire.” Jerry left the office and Dean went to look at the microscope.

“You know, there are not too many things that leave behind a sulfuric residue.” Dean looked at his brother, then at you.

“Demonic possession?” Sam asked.

“It would explain how a mortal man would have the strength to open up an emergency hatch.” Dean rubbed his jaw in thought.

“If the guy was possessed, it’s possible.” You added.

“This goes way beyond floating over a bed or barfing pea soup. I mean it’s one thing to possess a person, but to use them to take down an entire airplane?” Dean sighed.

“You ever hear of something like this before?” Sam asked both you and his brother.

“Never.” Dean shook his head.

“I knew it was a demon.” You said, crossing your arms, making your cleavage look bigger.

“What?” Sam turned and looked at you.

“You didn’t say anything about it,” Dean said.

“I thought it.” You bit back.

“That’s not…” Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We should go.” He stood up straight and left the office.

* * *

You were staying at yet another motel but this was nothing new to you. You practically grew up in motel rooms. After your mom died, you moved in with Sam and Dean and nothing had been the same for you since. You were used to traveling that much but now, you didn’t think twice about it.

But this motel room was messy because of you three. Images and articles were taped to the walls and strewn across the beds as if spreading it out would help you get organized. Sam was at one of the tables, researching on his computer. Dean was sitting on one of the beds, reading something from the other one. You were sitting on the ground, up against the wall, with a book in your hand about demonic possession. The librarian sure did give you weird looks when you checked it out.

“So, every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it.” Sam said without looking up.

“Yeah, but none of them describe anything like this,” Dean said, distractedly. You weren’t doing much of reading anyways. You were watching Dean with that damn mouth of his, twirling a pen between his lips. It brought you back to the time when he was your first kiss. You’ve wondered about those lips back then and wished for them now.

“Well, that’s not exactly true. You see according to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes disease.” Sam informed.

“And this one causes plane crashes?” Dean wondered as he got up, going to his brother. “So, what, we have a demon that’s evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?”

“Yeah, who knows how many planes it’s brought down before this one?” You sighed, getting up from your spot on the floor and shutting the book in your hand. If you couldn’t focus before, you weren’t going to be able to focus now. Dean scoffed at what you said and turned away from the both of you. He did that when shit got serious.

“What?” Sam said, looking up at his big brother.

“I don’t know, man. This isn’t our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don’t want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. This is big and I wish Dad was here.” He sounded sad and that broke your heart. You walked over to Dean and grabbed his hand softly, putting your head on his shoulder.

“I do too.” You whispered, rubbing his arm in a comforting way. Dean’s phone rang was a great way to ruin the moment. He sighed and reluctantly pulled away, answering it quickly.

“Hello?” He answered. He pulled the phone away and pressed the speakerphone button and you could only assume who this was. “Hey, Jerry.”

“My pilot friend, Chuck Lambert, is dead.” Your eyes widened and you looked at Dean as if he had the answers.

“What? Jerry, I’m sorry, what happened?” Dean asked.

“He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago; the plane went down.” You sighed when you knew this wasn’t no accident.

“Where’d this happen?” Apparently, Dean knew it too.

“About 60 miles west of here, near Nazareth.”

“Okay, Jerry, hang in there, alright? We’ll catch up with you soon.” Dean hung up the phone and you knew he was stressed about this one.

“Another crash?” Sam sighed.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Dean grabbed his keys and headed out without another word.

* * *

You guys went there before any Government officials did and got some yellow stuff from the plane. You could only imagine what it was and when you took it back to Jerry’s office, your thoughts were confirmed.

“It’s the same as before; sulfur.” Jerry let out a sigh.

“Well, that’s great. All right, that’s two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him.” Dean said.

“With all due respect to Chuck, if that’s the case, that would be the good news.” Sam pointed out.

“What’s the bad news?” Dean asked, expecting there to be bad news with the good.

“Chuck’s plane went down exactly forty minutes into the flight. And get this, so did flight 2485.” You spoke, walking closer to Dean.

“Forty minutes? What does that mean?” Jerry asked, confused.

“It’s biblical numerology. You know Noah’s ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death.” You bit your lip hard.

“I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that all went down exactly forty minutes in,” Sam said.

“Any survivors?” Dean asked.

“No, or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?” Sam asked.

“No survivors.” You and Dean said at the same time.

“It’s going after all the survivors like it’s trying to finish its job.” You thought out loud. You needed to work fast if you wanted to great rid of this thing.

“We need to stop the rest of the survivors from getting on that plane,” Dean said.

“There is a survivor that goes by the name of Amanda Walker. She is flying for the first time since the crash.” You looked at Dean and you knew you needed to head out there quickly.

* * *

“Really? Well, thank you for taking our survey, and if you do plan to fly, please don’t forget your friends at United Britannia Airlines. Thanks,” Sam said as he hung up the phone. “Alright. That takes care of Blaine Sanderson and Dennis Holloway. They’re not flying anytime soon.”

“So, our only wildcard is the flight attendant Amanda Walker,” Dean said, going faster than he already was.

“Right, her sister Karen said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm,” Sam stated.

“That sounds like just our luck,” Dean said.

“Dean, this is a five-hour drive, even with you behind the wheel.” You bit your lip. You didn’t want to be a downer but it was the truth.

“Call Amanda’s cell phone again, see if we can’t head her off at the pass.” He asked you, looking at you through the rearview mirror.

“I already left her three voicemails. She must have turned her phone off.” You were getting to be stressed. You hated feeling stressed and saving people’s lives were more important.

“Go, we’re never going to make it.” Sam sighed.

“We’ll make it.” Dean pressed on the gas harder, making you fly through the night.

It was cutting it close but you made it in the nick of time. You didn’t wait for Dean to park, you just high tailed it out of the car and ran inside. It was a good thing you changed into your usual attire because running in the clothes from earlier was a pain in the ass. Yeah, your foot still hurt but you got over it. No point in crying over spilled milk.

You rushed inside with the boys right next to you and your eyes fell on the departure board that was very large.

“Right there,” Sam pointed to the board. “They’re boarding in thirty minutes.”

“And you said we wouldn’t make it,” Dean smirked.

“Okay, any normal person driving wouldn’t have made it. Mind you, we almost got killed on the way there.” You pointed out.

“Guys, not now. We need to find a phone.” Sam said. Dean spotted a courtesy phone and picked it up. You looked around and waited for Dean to get off the phone but listened to what he had to say. You couldn’t hear the person on the other line but you could hear Dean.

“Hi, gate 13,” Dean paused, waiting to be transferred to the other line. “I’m trying to contact an Amanda Walker. She’s a flight attendant on flight, um…flight 4-2-4.” It was a while before Dean spoke again.

“Miss Walker. Hi, this is Dr. James Hetfield from St. Francis Memorial Hospital. We have a Karen Walker here.” Dean lied smoothly.

“Nothing serious, just a minor car accident, but she was injured, so—” Dean stopped talking and you assumed he was cut off.

“You what?” Dean said, surprised.

“Uh, well… there must be some mistake.” Dean tried to say.

“Guilty as charged,” Dean said in a laughable manner and you wondered what was going on, on the other line.

“He’s really sorry… Yes, but…he really needs to see you tonight, so… Don’t be like that, come on, the guy’s a mess. Really, it’s pathetic… Oh, yeah… No, no. Wait, Amanda. Amanda!” Dean growled as he slammed the phone on the receiver. You knew it didn’t go well.

“Now what do we do? I take it that she didn’t listen to you?”

“Damn it! So close!” Dean sighed.

“All right, it’s time for plan B. We’re getting on that plane.” Sam declared.

“Whoa, whoa, now just hold on a second.” Dean was staring at his brother with wide eyes. You looked at Dean and tried to figure out why he was acting like this when you realized why.

“Dean, that plane is leaving with over a hundred passengers on board, and if we’re right, that plane is going to crash,” Sam argued. “So we’re getting on the plane, we need to find that demon and exorcise it. I’ll get the tickets; you get whatever you can out of the trunk. Whatever that will make it through the security. Meet me back here in five minutes.” Dean didn’t answer him but kept staring at him with the wide eyes.

“What?” Sam finally asked.

“Well, I kind of have this problem with, uh…”

“Flying.” You said for Dean.

“It’s never really been an issue until now.” Dean shrugged.

“You’re joking, right?” Sam scoffed.

“Do I look like I’m joking? Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?”

“Alright, Y/N and I will go then,” Sam said, turning away.

“What?” Dean said.

“I’ll do this one with Y/N,” Sam said without turning back around.

“What are you, nuts? You said it yourself, the plane’s going to crash.”

“Dean, we can do it all together, or I can do this one with Y/N. I’m not seeing a third option, here.” Sam finally turned around.

“Sam, get the tickets, Dean and I will meet you here in five minutes.” Sam took that as the okay and left without another word. You took Dean's hand and walked out with him to the car.

“Dean, listen to me,” You said, walking to the Impala.

“Y/N, I can’t do this. You know how I hate flying.” He sighed, opening the trunk of the Impala for you.

“Dean, you and I both know that you  _can_  do this. Would Sam ever let anything happen to you? Would I?” You grabbed a duffel bag and started packing things that wouldn’t look suspicious if security saw it.

“No, but…”

“Dean, look at me,” You stopped what you were doing and grabbed his cheeks in your hands. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and you know it. We are going to get on that plane and we are going to save  _all_  of those people because that is what we do. You said it yourself, saving people, hunting things. The family business.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded briskly.

“Good, remind me to put you on a plane when you’re passed out from drinking too much.” You giggled, letting go of his face and continued what you were doing.

“Shut up.”


End file.
